


Silver and Gold

by ScorpioInk



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dorian doesn't know what he's doing, Emotional Constipation, Heavy Angst, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Oral Sex, Sharing Body Heat, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:20:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23587522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScorpioInk/pseuds/ScorpioInk
Summary: Adaar is Dorian's great mystery. The man is talented, kind, and exceedingly private.Dorian wants to know everything about him.Patience, as they say, is a virtue.
Relationships: Male Adaar/Dorian Pavus, Male Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus
Comments: 13
Kudos: 128





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta read. 
> 
> I don't know what I'm doing. 
> 
> Please be nice.

The Inquisitor’s steps up the stairs toward Dorian’s alcove in the library were unmistakable, and something that Dorian had both come to anticipate and dread in his time with the Inquisition. Adaar had proven himself to be a capable and kind leader; always making time to help others with small, seemingly meaningless tasks, no matter where they went.

Dorian could distinctly remember the Elf in Redcliffe, almost cowering under Adaar’s massive stature, explaining that he had wanted to leave flowers for his deceased wife. Dorian could also remember that same Elf looking shocked when Adaar had returned to Redcliffe just to assure him it had been done.

Dorian wasn’t sure if it had been worth being attacked by three large bears, but Adaar had never faltered, spending extra time pulling the weeds from the stones before placing a small bundle of flowers beside them.

“Why, dear Inquisitor, would you come all this way just for a man you don’t know?” Dorian had asked him.

“Everyone needs help sometimes,” Adaar had answered, not saying anymore.

Adaar rarely did. Dorian had discovered quickly that Adaar was a man of few words, unlike Bull and Varric, who often came with them on their trips.

“Dorian,” Adaar greeted as he always did, simple and short.

“Inquisitor,” Dorian discarded the book he had been reading and stood. Not that it made much difference, Dorian only standing as tall as Adaar’s chest, but it was good manners.

“I’m headed out to the Emprise du Lion tomorrow; I was wondering if you could join me.”

“Me?” Dorian arched an eyebrow, “why not Solas, or Vivienne?”

Adaar rolled his eyes, and for a moment, Dorian thought he might smile.

“Because I would prefer to take _you_.”

“I’m available, as it is,” Dorian decided not to press further, knowing that if he continued that Adaar would simply stop answering him.

“Good,” Adaar nodded, “we’ll leave shortly after sunrise.”

“I’ll be ready,” Dorian took his seat again, opening his book to the marked page and resumed his reading.

“Dorian?”

Dorian glanced up, surprised to see Adaar still standing there, “yes, Inquisitor?”

“Dress warm.”

Dorian smirked, “and deny you the privilege of looking at my beautiful golden skin?”

“As beautiful as you are,” Adaar did smile now, a small upturn of his lips, “bring a cloak.”

“I didn’t know you cared,” Dorian was being honest, shocked to hear the term _beautiful_ come from Adaar, “but I’m a grown man. I can dress for the cold.”

“Tomorrow then.”

“Tomorrow,” Dorian agreed, watching as the Inquisitor’s hulking form descended the steps.

***

“ _Fasta vass,_ ” Dorian swore, moving closer to the fire, “aren’t you freezing?”

“You’re the only one not wearing a cloak,” Varric pointed out, and he was right, even Bull’s always visible chest had been covered by a bear-hide cloak.

“I’m from Tevinter,” Dorian said as if it explained everything.

“And?” Varric asked.

“I don’t _have_ a winter cloak,” Dorian wrapped his thin summer jacket around him, “it doesn’t get this cold there. I would have no need for one.”

“You’ve been in the north long enough, even Krem has a winter cloak,” Bull rolled his eyes, “you’re just a stubborn Vint.”

“I’m not stubborn,” Dorian spat through gritted teeth, “some of us don’t have access to the resources to easily get such things.”

Dorian didn’t go further into it, they had all been there when he had confronted his father. They didn’t need to know that he had given up his birthright when he had left.

Suddenly, the cold was gone as a heavy cloak was draped over his shoulders.

“You should have mentioned,” Adaar spoke softly as he adjusted his cloak around Dorian’s shoulders, “I would have one made for you.”

“It’s not your problem to solve.”

Adaar didn’t respond, instead taking his seat again to finish the dinner of stew that Harding had made them.

“Now you’re going to be cold,” Dorian protested, moving to take the fur from his shoulders.

“Don’t,” Adaar held up his hand to stop him, “Qunari are alright in the cold, I have an hour or two before I’ll be uncomfortable.”

“You’re from Seheron,” Dorian disagreed, “it’s just as hot as Tevinter.”

“I’m from Ferelden,” Adaar set his bowl aside, “my parents were from Seheron.”

“Yeah?” Varric’s interest was piqued, “you don’t have the accent.”

“My first language was Qunlat. My father barely spoke common. I wouldn’t expect to sound like I was from Ferelden.”

“What about your mother?”

“She went back to Seheron, after my father died,” Adaar’s eyes were trained on the fire.

“You didn’t want to go with her?”

“I’m not suited for life under the Qun.”

Bull laughed at that, “no, Boss, you’re not.”

Adaar gave a small shrug, “I know who I am.”

“Do you still speak with her?” Dorian asked, taking advantage of Adaar being in a sharing mood.

“No, it wouldn’t be allowed. I haven’t seen her since I was 15.”

A silence fell over the camp, and after a minute had passed Adaar stood, and nodded at the party before walking to his tent.

“He’s so private,” Dorian muttered under his breath, “I can’t tell if I’m coming or going.”

“He likes you,” Bull commented mildly, “or he wouldn’t bring you. Solas and Vivienne? He doesn’t like them. That’s why they stay at Skyhold.”

“I don’t feel like I know anything about him, I can’t even tell if we’re friends.”

“That’s what happens when everyone you’ve ever known has let you down, you stop sharing.” Bull stood, “I’m going to bed.”

“Me too,” Dorian staggered to his feet, struggling with the weight of Adaar’s cloak, “see you in the morning.”

***

Dorian had managed three hours of sleep before the cold crept through the thin mat he was sleeping on and chilled him to the bone. Despite Adaar’s cloak and the blanket over top of him, Dorian was still too cold to sleep.

Opening the flap to his tent Dorian moved toward the fire, still roaring under Harding’s scout’s careful care.

“Dorian?”

Adaar’s voice from behind him made Dorian jump, placing a hand over his chest, “Inquisitor, you scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” Adaar was dressed in simple linen pants, his chest bare despite the cold, “I heard you come from your tent and wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“I’m too cold to sleep,” Dorian pointed to the fire, “I was hoping to warm my hands before they were frozen solid.”

Adaar took a deep breath before nodding his head toward his tent, “come with me.”

“To your tent? Dear Inquisitor, you’ll start rumors.”

“You’re welcome to freeze, if you prefer,” Adaar shrugged, turning back to his tent and slipping inside without checking to see if Dorian was following.

Dorian looked over the camp for a moment, and when he was confident that he wasn’t being watched he slipped quietly inside of Adaar’s tent.

It was twice the size of his, which was to be expected considering the individual sleeping inside of it was also twice the size of him.

“Alright,” Dorian whispered to Adaar who was sitting on his mat, “now what?”

“Drop my cloak and come join me.”

“In bed?”

“Yes, Dorian, in bed,” Adaar stretched out on his side, leaving room for Dorian next to him.

Dorian considered running for a moment, unsure of what Adaar was offering him.

“Are you coming?”

Dorian folded the cloak as best he could before moving toward Adaar, sitting beside him cautiously.

“Lay down,” Adaar instructed, waiting for Dorian to stretch out on his back beside him before covering both of them with a thick blanket.

“And what now?” Dorian whispered into the space between them.

“Sleep, Dorian,” Adaar took the pillow from under his head and passed it to Dorian, resting this head on his arm.

“Just sleep?”

“Were you hoping for more?”

Dorian turned, mirroring Adaar’s pose and keeping his back to the larger man, “I don’t even know if you like men. Hell, I don’t even know if you like _me._ ”

Adaar was silent for a moment, and Dorian felt his anxiety grow.

“The answer is yes, on both counts.”

“Why am I here?”

“Are you cold?”

Dorian paused and realized that no, he wasn’t cold. The heat coming from Adaar in waves slowly warming his hands and feet from the chill that had settled within them, “oh.”

“Qunari run hot,” Adaar’s already low voice was lower with fatigue.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

***

Dorian woke before Adaar, finding that in the middle of the night he had turned to face the Qunari. Dorian took the surprise advantage to take in Adaar’s features uninterrupted.

His skin was a deeper shade of grey than Bull’s, almost metallic silver, with multiple scars across every inch of skin that Dorian could see, including a deep scar which cut through his right eyebrow and over his cheekbone. Adaar’s hair, a startling white, was tied back in two neat braids between his twisted horns which wore their typical silver guards.

Adaar’s face was relaxed in sleep, but Dorian knew that under the closed eyelids were stunning green eyes that Dorian had pictured more than once during quiet times alone in his room.

He was beautiful, Dorian mused. Every bit a warrior, each scar another mystery, another layer, to the complex man. 

The camp started to have sounds of activity, and Dorian noticed how Adaar’s pointed ear twitched before he started to wake, blinking his eyes to clear them before looking at Dorian.

“How did you sleep?”

“Very well,” Dorian admitted, “thanks to you.”

“I’m glad,” Adaar sat up, carefully moving the blanket to not pull it from Dorian before cracking his neck loudly.

“That doesn’t sound healthy.”

“It’s because I didn’t move all night,” Adaar twisted his back, more pops coming from him as he did.

“Do you usually sleep in one position all night?”

“It depends,” Adaar knocked on the frozen ground, “if I can, I dig a trench for my horns and sleep on my back, but the ground is frozen. I couldn’t turn my back to you without risking hitting you with them.”

“You could have asked me to move, we could have switched sides.”

“You were exhausted, you needed sleep,” Adaar moved to his pack, pulling a shirt from within it. Dorian looked over the latticework of scars across his skin until it was hidden from view by the fabric.

“How much longer are we going to be here?”

“A few more days,” Adaar pulled out his leather pants, setting them aside,

“Damnit.”

“You’re welcome to share my tent if you like.”

“I don’t want to be an inconvenience.”

“You’re not,” Adaar assured, “as I said last night, I like you, Dorian.”

“Of course you like me, I’m a very likable person.” Dorian pulled the blanket from him, wincing as the cold hit his skin.

“You are indeed. Take my cloak,” Adaar nodded to the fur, “I’ll be alright without it.”

“I couldn-“

“Dorian,” Adaar cut him off, “take it.”

“Thank you,” Dorian gathered the fur in his arms before ducking from the tent, ignoring Bull’s wolf-whistle as he walked to his own tent to get dressed for the day.

***

It had been a much nicer day with the warmth of Adaar’s cloak, and while Dorian was sure that he was never going to buy a summer home in the Emprise du Lion, by the time they made camp for the day Dorian was in a remarkably better mood than he had been the night before.

“You look good in bear,” Bull commented over dinner, nodding at Adaar’s cloak over his shoulders.

“He looks good in everything.”

Dorian glanced over his shoulder at Adaar, momentarily unsure if the words had come from him.

“You’re not wrong,” Varric chuckled, “I’m not even into guys and I know that Sparkler is a pretty one.”

“It’s expected,” Dorian started to explain, “with family status.”

“You could skip all the makeup and gold and still be beautiful, Dorian.”

Dorian gawked, positive that Adaar had spoken now.

“You broke him,” Varric laughed.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you have an opinion on _anything_ before,” Dorian pointed to Adaar, “and you pick me to be the first topic of interest?”

“I have lots of opinions, I just don’t share them.”

“My readers would be interested to hear them,” Varric offered, “if you want to share.”

Adaar smiled but shook his head.

“You don’t need to be secretive with us, Boss,” Bull tossed another log onto the fire.

“Maybe not,” Adaar agreed, “but I’m not secretive. I would just rather listen than speak.”

“What was your dad’s name?” Bull asked, testing Adaar’s willingness to share.

“His name, or his role?”

“Either.”

“Sten,”

“Explains why you’re so good with that sword,” Bull nodded to the massive weapon where it leaned near Adaar’s tent.

“He was a detailed teacher.”

“How did he die? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Ben-Hassrath.”

Bull tensed, glancing up at Adaar, “how?”

“They were on a mission to bring him back. He refused. My mother didn’t.”

“You lost both of your parents on the same day? That’s tragic,” Dorian frowned.

“So did you,” Adaar commented absently, looking out over the keep they had taken earlier that day.

“I suppose so,” Dorian looked at Bull who shrugged, “may I ask a question?”

“Why not.”

“Why do you wear your hair like that?”

Adaar snorted, turning to look back at Dorian, “because it’s easy.”

“And traditional,” Bull added, “most Qunari fighters either shave their head or wear it braided.”

“Has it always been white?”

“Yes.”

“How dark your skin is, is that due to the location of birth or…”

“Not sure that I could tell you,” Adaar shrugged, “Bull would know better.”

“We just come in all different colours and shades. Sometimes we’re light, sometimes we’re dark. Some Qunari are kinda green.”

“Never seen a green Qunari.”

“They’re not common.”

“And your horns?” Dorian continued his line of questioning,

“Mine look like my fathers.”

“They usually match your parents,” Bull nodded.

“If we’re done with the questions, I’m going to turn in,” Adaar stood, “I’m just going to check in with Harding. Dorian, you’re welcome to join me.”

***

“I hope our questioning didn’t make you uncomfortable,” Dorian whispered to Adaar as the camp started to settle for the night.

“It’s alright.”

“Did it?”

“I’m not used to talking about myself or people being interested.”

“I’d like to know more about you.”

“Why?”

Dorian hesitated before answering, “I find you intriguing. You already know almost all there is to know about me, it feels like a rather one-sided friendship.”

“Friendship?”

“Well, yes,” Dorian could hear the shock in Adaar’s voice, “we _are_ friends, aren’t we?”

“I suppose we are.”

“Unless you ask any man to join you in your tent.”

“Not any man, just the beautiful ones.”

“That’s the third time you’ve called me beautiful in two days.”

“You’re counting?” Adaar sounded amused.

“Considering we’ve only just established that we’re friends, yes, I’m counting.”

“I would imagine that’s something you hear frequently.”

“It is,” Dorian rolled his eyes in the darkness, “but not from interesting men such as yourself.”

“I’m not interesting.”

“Yes, you are,” Dorian shivered, not quite close enough to Adaar to cut all of the chill.

“Are you still cold?” Adaar reached for Dorian, pulling him closer with a firm hand on his lower back.

“A bit.”

“Rollover,” Adaar prompted.

“Why, are you going to hold me?” Dorian joked as he turned his back to Adaar.

“Yes.”

Dorian jumped as he felt the wall of muscle of Adaar’s chest and stomach press against his back, Adaar’s hand taking both of Dorian’s and holding them against his chest.

“Oh.”

“Is this alright? Are you warm enough?”

“Yes,” Dorian closed his eyes, surprised at the sting of unshed tears behind his eyelids. When was the last time anyone had held him?

“Goodnight, Dorian.”

“Goodnight.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW in this chapter to referenced child abuse and homophobia.

Dorian sighed as he flicked the corner of the page he was reading between two fingers. They had returned to Skyhold three days ago, and Dorian hadn’t spoke with the Inquisitor since. At this point, he was starting to wonder if Adaar was avoiding him.

“Inquisitor,” Solas greeted from the floor below, “are you keeping well?”

“As well as can be expected.”

“Was there something I could help you with?”

“No, I’m just dropping off some research supplies.”

“Have a good day, Inquisitor.”

“You as well.”

Dorian fought the small glimmer of hope that Adaar would stop to see him, attempting to focus on the page in front of him until he saw the unmistakeable boots that Adaar wore stopping just in front of his view.

“Dorian.”

“My dear Inquisitor, and here I thought you had forgotten about me,” Dorian looked up, smiling at Adaar.

“I couldn’t forget you if I wanted too,” Adaar was dressed casually, dark brown leather pants and a soft linen shirt which was loosely laced across his broad chest.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Can I borrow you for a minute, if you’re available?”

“Of course,” Dorian stood, setting his book on his chair, “where are we going?”

“To see Dagna,” Adaar pressed a gentle hand to Dorian’s back encouraging him to walk ahead.

“You don’t want to walk beside me?” Dorian feigned hurt.

“I have no issue walking beside you, but I’m afraid this library wasn’t built for someone quite as wide as me.”

“Is that why you don’t come here often? I know that you enjoy reading.”

“Yes,” Adaar followed Dorian through the door and to the undercroft.

Dorian did his best to conceal the flicker of joy knowing that Adaar hadn’t been avoiding him.

“Inquisitor!” Dagna shouted from her place next to the sharpening wheel.

“Hello Dagna,” Adaar greeted her with a smile, more friendly than Dorian typically saw him with anyone.

“I’m excited to see what he thinks,” Dagna pulled a large bundle of fabric from one of the cabinets.

“Me too,” Adaar ushered Dorian down the steps and toward Dagna.

“Here,” Dagna thrust the fabric, which upon closer review was an elegant deep purple velvet lined with fur, into Dorian’s arms, “try it on.”

“What is it?” Dorian searched through the yards of cloth until he found a clasp, letting the fabric unravel.

“A winter cloak,” Adaar answered him, “made for you with warming enchantments.”

“Oh,” Dorian stood for a moment, taking in the workmanship of the cloak. It was just as beautiful as some of the finest clothes made in Minrathous, a bright gold snake holding the cloth together.

“Don’t just stand there,” Dagna rolled her eyes, “try it on.”

Dorian undid the clasp, pulling it over his shoulders, instantly warming as the fur brushed against his skin.

Adaar walked in a slow circuit around him, giving a nod, “it fits perfectly, well done, Dagna.”

“I told you he was almost the same size as Cullen,” Dagna grabbed the front of the cloak, tugging on the fabric, “I think it needs a second clasp.”

“It wouldn’t hurt,” Adaar agreed, “what do you think Dorian?”

“It’s beautiful,” Dorian walked over to the mirror in the corner, “what made you pick purple?”

“Adaar picked the colour.”

“I thought it would suit you,” Adaar stood behind Dorian, watching him in the mirror, “though everything suits you.”

“I can’t possibly afford this,” Dorian admitted sheepishly.

“The Inquisition is paying for it.”

“You can’t-“

“I can, actually, being Inquisitor and all,” Adaar turned his attention back to Dagna, “how’s my sword coming.”

“It’s done, well, it needs to be sharpened but I can’t do that myself, it takes both of us to lift it,” Dagna pointed to where the blade rested against the wall.

“I can sharpen it, if you prefer,” Adaar offered, picking it up easily with one hand.

Dagna shrugged, “if you want.”

“Just how heavy is your blade?” Dorian pulled the cloak from his shoulders, too hot in the warmth of the undercroft.

“Hold it, if you like,” Adaar offered him the handle of the blade.

“Both hands,” Dagna called to him as she took the cloak over to attach a second clasp.

Dorian carefully took the blade in both hands, Adaar still holding onto one of the guards, “it doesn’t seem so bad.”

“I’m holding the weight,” Adaar slowly let go, leaving Dorian to struggle to keep the blade level with the ground.

“How do you swing this thing?” Dorian slowly lowered the tip of the sword to the ground, chuckling, “it’s massive.”

“Lots of training,” Adaar took the handle from Dorian one-handed, swinging it slowly before resting it back against the wall, “I’ll be back down later to sharpen it, Dagna.”

“Alright,” Dagna grabbed a piece of gold wire, pushing it into the forge, “I’ll make a second clasp and you can get Dorian’s cloak at the same time.”

“Perfect,” Adaar gave a small wave, headed toward the stairs, “great work as always, Dagna.”

“Thanks!”

“You’re fond of her,” Dorian commented as Adaar followed him back toward the library.

“We both understand what it’s like to not fit in where you’re from.”

“Yes, I can understand that,” Dorian frowned.

“I imagine you can,” Adaar agreed, escorting him to his alcove.

“It was nice seeing you,” Dorian took seat.

“Yes,” Adaar paused before shaking his head.

“What?”

“It’s nothing.”

“You were going to say something, and from our time as friends I know that when you _do_ speak, it is never _nothing_.”

“I was just wondering if perhaps you would like to join me for a drink later.”

“At the tavern?”

“In my quarters.”

“Oh.”

“It was silly,” Adaar waved off the statement, “never mind.”

“I’d like that,” Dorian gave a nod, “what time?”

“After dinner?”

“Perfect.”

“I’ll see you then,” Adaar gave a small nod before descending the steps, leaving Dorian to smile into his book as he wondered what the night would bring.

***

“I brought wine,” Dorian said by way of a greeting as he walked up the stairs to the Inquisitor’s quarters.

“Excellent,” Adaar commented from his desk, standing to greet Dorian.

“I’ll have you know that Mother Giselle _scowled_ at me as she noticed me entering your quarters.”

“I imagine she did,” Adaar rolled his eyes, “she’s scowled at me since I told you about the letter from your father, rather than tricking you.”

“Which I do appreciate more than you know,” Dorian took in the room, it was spacious, and mostly empty aside from a massive bed which took up the centre of the room.

“I’m a big man,” Adaar commented as he noticed Dorian looking over his bed.

“Quite a few notches in your headboard,” Dorian nodded toward the wood, pointing out the large gouges.

Adaar reached up and tapped his horn, “it happens.”

“I suppose it would,” Dorian sat on the couch near the fire, noticing his cloak folded on the small table nearby, “thank you again, for having the cloak made for me.”

“You’re welcome,” Adaar joined him, sitting cautiously and leaving space between them.

“I guess that means no more sleepovers next time you take me somewhere cold.”

Adaar didn’t comment, instead reaching over to the table and grabbing two glasses, holding them out to Dorian.

Dorian filled the glasses, before taking one from Adaar, “and here I thought you liked holding me.”

“I do like holding you.”

Dorian took a moment to silently thank years of social coaching which kept the blush from colouring his cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” Adaar sighed, “I’m not good at this.”

“And what exactly is _this_ , Inquisitor?”

“Friendship,” Adaar took a deep drink from his cup.

“Just friendship?”

Adaar looked at Dorian, an unreadable expression across his face before speaking, “I don’t know.”

“Well, I’ll just have to try harder to win you over,” Dorian reclined back against the arm of the couch, “have I ever told you about the time I was almost poisoned at my cousin's wedding?”

“No, I don’t believe so.”

“Hold onto your boots, Inquisitor, you’re in for a tale of a lifetime.”

***

“So, are you two fucking yet?” Bull asked Dorian as they watched the Inquisitor training with some of Cullen’s troops.

“No, not that it’s any of your business,” Dorian frowned, “I can’t tell if he likes me or if he’s just too polite to tell me to go away.”

“Oh he really likes you,” Bull assured, “he’s likely never had someone interested in him before without ulterior motives.”

“Maybe,” Dorian watched as the Inquisitor corrected one of the soldiers, taking the sword from him and showing him the movement again.

“Have you told him you want to fuck?”

“He’s not an easy man to speak too.”

“No, I guess not. Well, I’m here for you if it’s just a Qunari kink.”

Dorian rolled his eyes, “it’s not a Qunari kink.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Dorian frowned, “there’s just something about him.”

“I get it, if he wasn’t so lost on you, I’d go for him too.”

“What are we talking about?” Varric asked as he joined them.

“Adaar and Dorian having a fling.”

“We aren’t having a _fling_.”

“Right, we’re talking about how Dorian _wants_ to have a fling.”

“I think he’d go for it, why don’t you ask?”

“Why are you all so interested in my love life all of a sudden?” Dorian crossed his arms over his chest.

“A little birdy told me that you two had drinks together the other night.”

“What about it?”

“You had an in right there, why didn’t you just drop to your knees and –“

“We had a lovely night getting to know one another,” Dorian cut off Bull’s line of thought.

“He’s coming over,” Varric interrupted.

“Kaaras,” Bull greeted.

“What does that mean?”

“It’s my name,” Adaar answered Dorian.

“I thought your name was Adaar?”

“I was brought up in Ferelden, I have a first name and a surname,” Adaar smiled as he wiped the sweat from his forehead, “you calling me Adaar is like me calling you Pavus.”

“What does it mean?”

“Kaaras?” Adaar considered for a minute, “navigator, I think that would be the closest translation.”

“And Adaar?”

“Weapon,” Bull answered for him, “it’s a cannon mounted to a ship.”

“So what’s your real name, Bull?” Varric asked

“Hissrad,” Bull answered, “the best translation is _keeper of illusions_.”

Adaar snorted, “if you say so. The Iron Bull suits you better.”

“You’re just jealous of my horns.”

“I don’t know a single Qunari who _wouldn’t_ be jealous of your horns. Even with them flaking everywhere.”

“Yeah, do you know where to get horn balm? I can’t find any here.”

“I make my own, remind me and I’ll bring you some. I need to head to the Hinterlands tomorrow, are you guys free to come with me?”

“Sure, I have no plans,” Bull shrugged.

“I’m good, I was hoping to pick up a new trigger for Bianca anyway.”

“Certainly,” Dorian nodded.

“Perfect, we’ll leave at noon.”

***

“We’re staying at an inn?” Dorian asked as they walked into Redcliffe village, “an _inn?_ Is it my birthday?”

“I felt bad after the Emprise du Lion,” Adaar led the way to the pub where they had met Dorian’s father, “hopefully this wont bring back too many bad memories.”

“It has _beds_ , I’m more than happy to return.”

“I hope they have that rabbit stew they make, it’s delicious,” Varric commented from behind them, his legs struggling to keep up.

“Me too,” Adaar held the door to the inn open, “I hope they have a lot of it. It’s hard work, feeding two Qunari.”

***

“That was delightful,” Dorian sat his bowl on the table.

“Mmhmm,” Adaar agreed absentmindedly.

“Boss…”

“I know, I see him,” Adaar pushed his chair back from the table and stood, “Dorian, switch with me.”

“Why?”

“Do it,” Bull was watching someone over Dorian’s shoulder, “now.”

Dorian frowned, but took Adaar’s seat, switching places with him, “what’s this about?”

“He’s coming over.”

“There are two,” Adaar corrected Bull, “the other is in the corner by the door.”

“I’ll take him.”

“What are you two on about?” Dorian almost shouted.

“Dorian Pavus?” a human male called to him and Dorian turned.

“What?”

There was a flash of a blade and Dorian winced, taking a moment to realize the sting of the cut never came.

“I don’t think so,” Adaar’s voice growled, and Dorian opened his eyes to see the blade imbedded in Adaar’s forearm, pulled from the would-be assassin's hand. Adaar’s hand gripped tightly around the neck of the man who had wielded it, “you’re coming with me. Bull, go get his friend.”

Adaar dragged the man from the inn, walking past the church, pulling the knife from his arm and tossing it in the bushes as Varric and Dorian followed behind him. Bull grabbed the other man from the corner, following after them.

“He was trying to kill me,” Dorian pointed at the man in Adaar’s grip, “how rude.”

“Who sent you?” Adaar asked.

“I’m not telling you, Qunari freak.”

“Brave words from a man being held by the throat,” Varric pointed Bianca at him.

Adaar sighed, “I’ll beat it out of you, I really don’t mind, but I’d like to wrap my arm so if we could hurry this along.”

“Fuck you.”

There was a crunch as Adaar easily threw the man into a nearby tree before stalking after him, taking him by the shirt once more, “who sent you?”

“I’m not telling you.”

There was a swift knee to the ribs and Dorian heard a loud crack.

“Now?”

“No,” the man wheezed and tried to stand, dropped by a hard punch.

“Now?”

“Stop,” the man held up his hands.

“Who sent you?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Then I’m not stopping,” Adaar picked the man up by the shirt, walking to the edge of the land where it looked out over the water, holding the man as his feet dangled over nothing but air and the sharp rocks in the water below.

“Don’t,” the man gripped at Adaar’s arm, slipping against the blood-soaked skin, “it was Magister Pavus.”

“My father?” Dorian frowned, “sent you to kill me?”

“To bring you home.”

“With a knife?” Adaar arched an eyebrow.

“He told us to incapacitate him.”

“Dorian, do you want to go with them?”

“No,” Dorian scoffed, “of course not.”

“Looks like the answer is no,” Adaar let go, a short scream and sudden silence piercing the air as the man fell against the rocks below.

“Don’t,” the man in Bull’s grip tried to fight, “I didn’t touch him.”

“You’re going to send a message,” Adaar glared down at the man, “tell Magister Pavus that Dorian is with the Inquisition, and any further attempts on his life will be considered an attack against us, and will be treated as a declaration of war.”

“You want me to tell a Magister that?”

“I want you to tell the Magister that I will march the Inquisition forces into Tevinter and wipe his family _clean_ from the history books if he doesn’t leave Dorian alone. Understood?”

“You would never make it in, he won’t believe you.”

“He is _very_ welcome to take that risk if he wants too,” Adaar growled, a sound so low that Dorian almost couldn’t hear it, “but I wouldn’t suggest it.”

“I’ll tell him,” the man promised, “please let me go.”

Adaar nodded to Bull, moving to stand in front of Dorian as he let the man go. Adaar hadn’t needed to act as guard, the man taking off running as soon as he was free from the Bull’s grip.

“Are you alright?” Adaar asked Dorian.

“You’re asking me if I’m alright?” Dorian let out a laugh, “he carved your arm open.”

“What’s one more scar,” Adaar shrugged.

“Come on, lets get you tended too.”

***

“Sit,” Dorian pointed to the chair in the small room that Adaar would be sleeping in for the night, setting out the first aid supplies the local healer had given him across the bed.

“I can take care of this Dorian.”

“You’re not going to be able to wrap your own arm, Kaaras, sit.”

Adaar did as instructed, sitting cautiously on the chair and trying to roll up his sleeve before giving up and pulling his shirt off, using it to hold pressure against the wound as Dorian prepared.

“There are no limits to what that man will do to keep me under his thumb,” Dorian kneeled beside Adaar, holding his hand out to take his arm.

“I’m sorry,” Adaar spoke softly, “I know what it’s like to have a father who expects too much of you.”

“Make forbid I wanted to be happy,” Dorian frowned as he looked over the wound, it was very deep and bleeding heavily, “I’m sorry you’ve been dragged into my family politics again.”

“It’s alright.”

“I need to clean this up before I heal it,” Dorian wet a cloth with elfroot solution, carefully pressing it to the wound.

Adaar winced, drawing a sharp breath.

“I’m sorry,” Dorian said again, “I’ll just be a minute.”

“Take your time,” Adaar closed his eyes, letting Dorian work, “my father was the same when he found out I preferred the company of men.”

“Was he?”

“He didn’t resort to a ritual, he didn’t trust magic, he preferred a whip.”

Dorian thought to the latticework of scars across Adaar’s back, “I thought Qunari didn’t mind that type of relationship.”

“They don’t, my mother never cared, Bull doesn’t care. My father was ignorant.”

“What a pair we make,” Dorian set the cloth aside, “I’ll heal it closed now. I’m afraid I’m not very practiced at healing magic, it might burn.”

“That’s alright.”

Dorian pushed his magic forward, willing the wound to close, watching as the skin knit together.

“Thank you,” Adaar gently pulled his arm from Dorian’s grasp, running his hand over the new scar.

“You’re welcome,” Dorian stood, collecting the supplies and setting them on the small desk in the room, “I suppose I should leave you to rest, head back to my room. Hopefully my father hasn’t sent anymore assassins for me on the way.”

“Did you want to stay?”

Dorian thought about refusing, going back down to the bar and ordering a bottle of wine just for himself and taking it back to his room to drown his sorrows.

Instead he turned to face Adaar and nodded, “if you don’t mind.”

“Of course not,” Adaar stood, “did you need me to escort you to your room for your sleeping clothes?”

“No, I’ll be alright.” Dorian slipped from the room and into the room that he had claimed as his for the night, quickly gathering his pack and fighting the urge to run back to Adaar’s room.

By the time he had returned, Adaar had changed into soft sleeping pants and was waiting for Dorian near the door, locking it behind him as he slipped in.

“I’m afraid there isn’t much in the way of privacy for you to change,” Adaar stayed near the door, “I can wait here while you do.”

“I’ll only be a minute,” Dorian was grateful for the consideration. Certainly, under certain circumstances Dorian would be glad to be nude in front of Adaar, but today didn’t feel like the day for such activities.

Adaar waited patiently facing the door until Dorian called to him.

“I’m ready,” Dorian sat on the edge of the bed, forgoing a shirt and dressed in similar pants to Adaar. There was a sharp knock at the door and Dorian tensed, “you don’t think it’s another?”

“Boss?” Bull’s voice called through the door.

Adaar unlocked the door, pulling it open, “Bull?”

“Dorian isn’t in his room, I just wanted to make sure he was with you.”

“I’m here,” Dorian called to Bull, walking over to join Adaar.

“Okay, probably safer for you to stay in here tonight.”

“That what I thought,” Adaar agreed.

“I’ll keep an eye on the bar for another hour or two, make sure there aren’t anymore. Keep your window locked.”

“I locked it while Dorian gathered his things, come and get me if you see something suspicious.”

“I will,” Bull nodded, “good night.”

“Good night,” Adaar locked the door behind Bull, following Dorian over to the bed, “sleep against the wall, I’ll take the side near the door.”

Dorian wanted to argue, protest Adaar putting himself in harms way, but decided to slip into the bed, waiting for Adaar to join him.

“I’m sorry, this bed isn’t very big,” Adaar stretched out beside Dorian, looking above him to make sure he had room before dropping onto his back with a groan.

“It’s alright,” Dorian extinguished the candles in the room with a wave of his hand, “I found during our time in the Emprise du Lion I rather like sharing small beds with you.”

“Is that so?”

“I would like to do it more often, with fewer assassins.”

“We could all do with fewer assassins.”

“And more bed-sharing.”

When Adaar didn’t respond Dorian backpedaled.

“That is, if you would like to share a bed with me. I won’t make a pest of myself if you don’t. I’m sorry, I’m tired, and stressed, and I’ve had a terrible day. I’m making a fool of myself.”

“Dorian,” Adaar finally spoke, “if I didn’t enjoy sharing my bed with you, I would have asked Bull to keep watch outside your door tonight.”

“So…you do enjoy my company?”

“I do.”

“And the bed-sharing? Or potential bed-sharing as the case may be.”

“I don’t do casual sex.”

“Ah, you’re not interested then.”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t interested. I said I wasn’t interested in casual.”

Dorian wasn’t sure what to say, the weight of the day weighing heavily on him. He knew reasonably that this was not the time to be talking about a potential relationship. Dorian glanced up, finding Adaar resting with his eyes closed.

He couldn’t contain his deep sigh.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, it’s just been…quite the day.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“I don’t suppose you could hold me? It’s silly, but you make me feel safe.”

Adaar stretched out his arm, “come here.”

Dorian hesitated for a minute before moving closer to Adaar, resting his head on larger man's chest and tensing for a moment as Adaar wrapped his arm around his waist, holding him.

Dorian took a breath, the now-familiar sting of tears springing to his eyes. Unlike the Emprise du Lion, Dorian couldn’t stop them from falling. Blushing as he felt his tears hit Adaar’s chest.

Adaar brought his other hand to Dorian’s cheek, gentle wiping the tears from his face.

“I’m sorry,” Dorian choked out.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Kadan.”


	3. Chapter 3

“ _Fasta vass,_ I’m a mess,” Dorian tried and failed to wipe the smudged eyeliner from around his eyes without making too much noise, Adaar still asleep on the bed behind him.

“I don’t believe that,” Adaar grumbled against his pillow from where he had flipped onto his stomach in the night.

“Clearly you’ve never worn eyeliner and had it run down your cheeks.”

“No, I can’t say I have,” Adaar turned to face him, keeping his head resting in his arms, “how did you sleep?”

“Fine, I always do when I sleep with you,” Dorian continued to rub at the dark stains, “I’ve only been awake a few minutes. How’s your arm?”

“Fine,” Adaar rolled onto his back, stretching, giving Dorian a glorious minute to admire the way his muscles moved as he did.

“I wanted to thank you again for yesterday.”

“You’re welcome,” Adaar stood, walking over to his pack and grabbing his clothes for the day.

“I feel terrible my father keeps causing you so many interruptions.”

“Hopefully he won’t do it again.”

“One can dream,” Dorian sighed, “it’s no use, I can’t get this off of my face.”

“Give me a minute and I’ll help you,” Adaar dressed quickly before going back into his pack and pulling a small pot from within it.

“What’s that?”

“Horn balm,” Adaar opened the lid, taking a small amount on his finger and gesturing for Dorian to face him, “it’s oil-based, it should take your makeup off.”

Dorian froze as Adaar gently wiped away the makeup, taking Dorian’s cloth from him to wipe away the stain.

“There you are.”

“Thank you.”

Dorian’s heart ached at the intimacy of it all. Waking up together, dressing together, Adaar’s gentle hand on his face.

“Are you alright?”

“The things you do to me,” Dorian sighed.

“Wiping makeup from your face?”

“Caring for me.”

“I’d like to think I’m improving.”

“Improving at what?”

“Friendship,” Adaar passed Dorian back his cloth.

“I daresay that if you were any better, I would never need another friend in my life.”

***

They had stopped for the night on their way back to Skyhold, setting up camp near a small gathering of Inquisition scouts.

“Did you want to share with me,” Adaar asked Dorian quietly as he untacked their horses, “or on your own?”

“With you, if you don’t mind.”

Adaar nodded, leaving Dorian’s tent on the cart as he helped the scouts unload the others. Dorian wandering off to find Bull and Varric near the fire.

“I was wondering if you could translate something for me, Bull.”

“Depends on what it is.”

“I believe it was _Kadan_.”

“In common, or Tevene?”

“Either.”

“In common, it roughly translates to _where the heart lies_. It’s a term used for someone close to you. In Tevene, you say _Amatus_. I take it that you two have finally screwed like bunnies.”

“No. Adaar doesn’t do casual.”

“And?” Varric asked.

“He’s not interested.”

“He’s not interested, or he’s not interested in casual?”

“The latter.”

“I’m not seeing the problem here,” Varric looked at Bull who shrugged, “if he doesn’t do casual hookups, then don’t be casual about it.”

“I’ve never known anything _but_ casual.”

“You know, Sparkler, the nice thing about getting older is that you can learn and try new things if it interests you.”

Dorian nodded slowly, “Bull?”

“I’d go for it.”

“Go for what?” Adaar asked as he joined them.

“Some horn balm right now,” Bull scratched at the base of his horn as Dorian said a quick prayer of thanks that Bull hadn’t given away their conversation.

“I have some in my pack, I’ll get it.”

“That was close,” Dorian commented as Adaar walked into their tent.

“I’ve got your back,” Bull assured, “but I get first right of refusal if you don’t go for it.”

Adaar walked back toward them, sitting on one of the logs they used as chairs and pointing to the ground in front of him.

“Yeah?” Bull asked, surprised, but walked over and sat between Adaar’s legs.

“Is this some kind of Qunari mating ritual?” Varric joked.

“More like a friendship ritual,” Bull answered, waiting patiently as Adaar opened the jar and scooped some of the oil into his hands, warming it, “it’s a way of bonding.”

“I also imagine it’s hard for you to tend to horns this size by yourself,” Adaar grabbed Bull’s right horn by the base, soaking it in oil and rubbing firmly where the horn met Bull’s skin.

“Oh yeah,” Bull closed his eyes, resting his head against Adaar’s knee as he worked the balm over the length of the horn, “you have magic hands.”

“I have one,” Adaar agreed.

“What does that feel like?” Dorian asked, “do they have much sensation?”

“When they’re this dry?” Adaar gathered more oil in his hand for another pass, “this would be soothing. But yes, our horns have feeling, just not much. Similar to that of your nail.”

“This feels so good,” Bull groaned.

“You shouldn’t neglect them,” Adaar chastised.

“I can’t find horn balm out here, Skinner made some, but it cracks when you take us somewhere cold.”

“I’ll make you a batch of mine.”

Dorian watched as Adaar spent his time tending to the first horn. By the time he switched to the second, there was a noticeable colour difference between the two.

“I’d like to see what else you can do with your hands, Boss.”

“Is that so,” Adaar rolled his eyes at Dorian.

“If you’re this detailed with horn balm? Yeah, I’d be interested.”

“Thank you for the offer, but I don’t do casual.”

“Why not?”

“I always get attached,” Adaar pushed Bull to sit upright, rubbing his thumbs into the base of both horns at once.

“Too bad, you’d be in high demand at Skyhold.”

“If you say so,” Adaar pat Bull on the shoulder, “you’re all set.”

“Thanks. Want a turn?”

“If you’re offering,” Adaar stood, switching places with Bull.

“Do those come off?” Varric pointed to the metal covering Adaar’s horns.

“They just twist on,” Adaar reached up, carefully twisting the coverings off.

“Oh,” Bull looked down at Adaar’s horns.

They were different from Bull’s, not only in shape but also in color, a deep black at the base fading to a white at the tip, one a few inches shorter than the other.

“What happened?” Bull asked as he started rubbing the balm into Adaar’s horn.

“Do you remember a few years ago, there was that potion that was meant to cure the blight?”

“I remember hearing about it, yeah. Did it work?”

“No,” Adaar frowned, “it didn’t.”

“Care to share?” Varric prompted.

“There was a rumor that this fancy potion which was full of all sorts of expensive ingredients could cure the blight. One of those ingredients was Qunari horn,” Bull frowned, “we were hunted for a bit. I guess people don’t know that it grows back.”

“But it didn’t work?”

“No, it didn’t,” Adaar closed his eyes, “maybe we were too slow, but the blight took him regardless.”

“Who was it?” Dorian couldn’t help the curiosity.

“It doesn’t matter,” Adaar answered sadly.

“Our dear Inquisitor has a lost love?” Varric spoke softly.

“You could say that.”

***

“What was he like?” Dorian asked Adaar once they were in their tent.

“Qunari, brought to Ferelden when he was young. He was attacked by some darkspawn.”

“I’m sorry.”

Adaar shrugged, laying down on bedroll and waiting for Dorian to join him.

Dorian faced Adaar, “I feel like there’s so much I don’t know about you.”

“There is.”

“Will you tell me?”

“What do you want to know?”

“Were you in love?”

“Yes.”

“And you were together?”

“Yes.”

“For how long?”

“Three years,” Adaar sighed, “we had a home, worked for the same merc group. He was a mage, like you.”

“That didn’t bother you?”

“No.”

“You must miss him.”

“Every day.”

“I’m sorry,” Dorian said again.

Adaar didn’t answer, instead bringing his hand to Dorian’s back, his thumb tracing idle patterns into the skin.

“I’ve never dreamed of having a lover to share my home with. It wouldn’t be accepted in Tevinter.”

“That’s a shame,” Adaar’s eyes were closed now, his voice lower as he started to drift to sleep, “there’s something wonderful about waking up with someone you care about, cooking with them, building a home with them.”

“I imagine so,” Dorian thought back to the morning, Adaar wiping the makeup from his face. The night before, as he had held him as he wept.

Now, as they held each other with no expectations of rushing off as to not be caught.

“Good night, Kadan.”

“Good night, Amatus.”

***

Dorian frowned as Skyhold came into view, something Adaar picked up on immediately.

“Not happy to be back?”

“I much prefer my sleeping arrangements while we’re on the road.”

“Join me for dinner tonight?”

“Are you attempting to court me, Inquisitor?”

“I’d like too.”

“You better say yes, Dorian, or I’m going to take him up on it,” Bull called from behind them.

“I think I should be available,” Dorian answered Adaar, “I’ll bring the wine?”

“Perfect.”

***

Dorian had spent the day preparing for dinner, refreshing his haircut and styling his moustache _just so_. He had passed Adaar throughout Skyhold a few times over the course of the day, feeling his eyes linger on him. Dorian hoped that it was a promising sign for the night to come.

As he walked up the steps to Adaar’s quarters, he stopped at the top when he saw Adaar leaning over his desk.

“It’s all very nice, this flirting business. I am, however, not a nice man,” Dorian tried for confident, setting the bottle of wine on Adaar’s desk as the larger man turned to him, “So here is my proposal. We dispense with the chitchat, and move on to something more primal.”

Dorian couldn’t tell if Adaar looked amused or concerned as he started to walk around him, “It’ll set tongues wagging, of course. Not that they aren’t already wagging. I suppose it really depends. How bad does the Inquisitor want to be?”

It was bold, Dorian knew, given their prior conversations, and he was fiercely hoping that he hadn’t been misreading the looks Adaar had been giving him throughout the day.

Dorian watched as Adaar took a deep breath, “Dorian…”

“I want you, Kaaras.”

Adaar reached for him, pulling Dorian against him with a firm grip on his hips as their lips finally met. Adaar tasted metallic and spicy and something distinctly comforting, drawing a groan from Dorian.

“You drive me crazy, Kadan,” Adaar led Dorian to the bed, undoing the buckles across Dorian’s chest as he walked.

“Let me,” Dorian brushed Adaar’s hands away, “I’ll be faster.”

“If you say so,” Adaar undid the lacing on the front of his shirt, pulling it over his head and dropping it on the floor before kicking off his boots and shedding his pants shortly after, leaving him only in his smalls as he sat on the edge of the bed to wait for Dorian.

Dorian struggled with his leathers finally successfully pulling them from his body before turning back to Adaar and climbing onto the bed to straddle him.

“Now, where were we?”

Adaar cupped Dorian’s jaw, drawing him closer, “here.”

Dorian couldn’t fight the smile that crossed his face as Adaar kissed him again.

It turned out that Adaar was a _remarkable_ kisser, and Dorian felt helpless to do anything but cling to his shoulders as Adaar drove him to distraction.

Adaar’s hands moved over Dorian’s back, kneading the muscles as he moved down to cup Dorian’s ass, encouraging Dorian to rock against him.

Suddenly, Dorian was aware of two things. One, it had been a _long_ time since he had last been intimate with anyone. Two, Qunari’s were large in all things.

“Problem?” Adaar asked as he kissed down Dorian’s neck.

“It’s been a while since I last…well…I’m not sure I’ll be able to take someone of your…stature.”

“That’s fine, I’m happy to be the one to do the taking.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” Adaar pulled Dorian close and flipped him onto his back, hovering over him, “but I’d like to taste you first.”

“Maker,” Dorian groaned as Adaar kissed his way down his stomach, tugging on his smalls until Dorian lifted his hips to let Adaar remove them.

“Kaaras, actually.”

“Now he has a sense of humor.”

“You’ll find I have lots of talents,” Adaar took Dorian’s rapidly hardening cock in hand, licking a stripe from base to tip.

“I hope so,” Dorian fisted the sheets as Adaar took him into his mouth, impossibly warm and wet.

Adaar took his time teasing Dorian until he was so hard he could feel his heartbeat pulsing in his cock with each pass of Adaar’s tongue.

“I won’t last to be inside of you if you keep this up,” Dorian reached out, grabbing hold of one of Adaar’s horns, pulling a deep growl from Adaar, the vibration shooting sparks up Dorian’s core.

Adaar reached for Dorian’s other hand, bring it to his other horn, waiting for Dorian to direct the pace.

“Oh _maker,”_ Dorian started slowly, rolling his hips in time with each pull of Adaar’s horns.

Time froze as Dorian increased the pace until he was hanging on the edge, his grip on Adaar’s horns the only thing grounding him through all of the sensations.

“Stop,” Dorian pulled Adaar off with a pop, breathing heavily, “you incredible man.”

“I’m glad you approve,” Adaar moved back up and kissed Dorian deeply.

“I more than approve,” Dorian pushed at Adaar’s smalls, “off.”

Adaar stood from the bed, kicking off his smalls and going to the bedside cabinet, pulling a vial of oil from inside and handing it to Dorian, “how do you want me?”

“On your stomach,” Dorian took the oil, “you’ll have to be patient with me.”

Adaar didn’t comment, instead dropping onto his stomach in the middle of the bed, resting his head in crossed arms.

“There’s so much of you,” Dorian ran his hand over Adaar’s back, over the swell of his ass, and down his leg, “I’ve never had a lover so big.”

“I wouldn’t imagine you have, unless you’ve bedded a Qunari before.”

“No, you’re my first.”

Adaar watched Dorian uncork the bottle and pour some oil into his hand, whispering a brief spell to warm it.

“Spread your legs for me, Amatus,” Dorian settled between them as Adaar did, “ready?”

“Yes.”

Dorian brought his finger to the tight ring of muscle, spreading the warmed oil until Adaar’s skin shined like silver before pressing his finger carefully inside of Adaar.

“Alright?” Dorian glanced up to Adaar’s face.

“Fine.”

“You don’t sound excited,” Dorian frowned.

“Dorian, I’m fine, but not one for teasing. You’re much smaller than me, one of your fingers _is_ no more than a tease.”

“Ah,” Dorian pressed a second finger inside of Adaar, smiling as Adaar let out a quiet moan, “you want to get on with things, yes?”

“Yes.”

“I can do that,” Dorian scissored his fingers, twisting them gently until Adaar was ready for three, “you’re so calm.”

“I trust you.”

“I’m glad,” Dorian eased a third finger inside of Adaar, “let me know when you’re ready.”

“Now.”

“You’re sure?”

“Dorian,” Adaar rolled his eyes, “yes.”

“I just wanted to make sure, no need to get testy, it takes more preparation with humans.”

Adaar moved, coming up on his knees slightly and keeping his chest against the bed, looking over his shoulder at Dorian.

Dorian took a steading breathing, “I fear I might never see anything so beautiful before me again.”

“Wait until you look in the mirror tomorrow.”

“Such a romantic,” Dorian emptied the remained of the oil into his hand, taking a moment to slick himself before taking hold of Adaar’s hip, “ready?”

“I’m not going to say yes again, Dorian. I’m literally on the bed, spread, and waiting for you.”

Dorian pushed forward, letting out a shocked gasp at the heat as he slid deeper into Adaar, “you’re so warm.”

“Qunari run hot, as you know.”

“Am I even slightly affecting you?”

“Of course you are, why did you think I kneeled?”

Dorian leaned forward, wrapping himself over Adaar’s back to reach between his legs. Adaar letting out a low rumble of a moan as Dorian started to stroke him.

“There we are, and here I thought I was the only one having fun.”

“Move.”

“I am moving.”

“Move your _hips_ , Dorian.”

“Pushy.”

Adaar growled, the sound low and dangerous enough that it brought up Dorian’s skin up in goosebumps.

“Alright,” Dorian pushed himself back up, holding Adaar’s hips as he started to rock, “let me know if I’m being too rough.”

“You won’t be,” Adaar shifted his weight, bring his hand between his legs to stroke himself, “harder.”

Dorian let his hips snap forward, the sharp sound of skin on skin filling the room followed by another low moan from Adaar.

“Like that?”

“Yes,” Adaar’s eyes were fixed on Dorian as he moved.

“Gods you’re beautiful,” Dorian watched as sweat started to bead across Adaar’s forehead.

“Says the man who looks like he’s made of gold.”

Dorian looked down at where they joined, the warm glow of his skin against the cool steel of Adaar’s, “we look good together.”

“We do,” Adaar pushed his hips back against Dorian, “now stop spitting poetry and _fuck me_.”

Dorian did, the slow burn of completion at the bottom of his spine driving him forward increasingly faster until all that could be heard in the room were the sounds of skin on skin and broken moans. Dorian not sure if they had spent minutes or hours together, expecting to see the sun set at any moment. Content to see the sunrise by the time they finished.

“Come on, Amatus,” Dorian almost begged, “spend for me.”

Adaar growled as he fell over the edge, clenching down on Dorian hard enough to having him following moments later, gasping into Adaar’s back as he shook through the force of his orgasm.

Adaar waited until Dorian carefully withdrew before rolling and dropping on his back, stretching across the bed and reaching for Dorian to sprawl across his chest.

“You’re sticky,” Dorian complained.

“You made me this way,” Adaar pressed a kiss to the top of Dorian’s head.

“Was it alright?”

Adaar hummed, bringing his hand up to card through Dorian’s hair, “what did you think?”

“That it took us too long to do that,” Dorian traced over the scars on Adaar’s chest, “and if you give me some time and a glass of wine, I’d like to do it again.”

***

“I should go,” Dorian moved to stand from the bed, held down by Adaar wrapping a large thigh across his hips.

“No.”

“You’re going to keep me prisoner then?”

“Of course not, if you truly want to leave,” Adaar tipped Dorian’s chin up to face him, “do you?”

“No, not really, but I would like to avoid the rumors in the morning.”

Adaar studied his face for a minute, and Dorian felt his cheeks flush pink. After a breath, Adaar moved, drawing back to his side of the bed and settling on his back.

“Do you want me to stay?”

“You know I do.”

Dorian stood from the bed, reaching for his leathers, “next time, Amatus.”

Adaar didn’t respond, watching as Dorian dressed with a schooled expression of calm.

“It’s been lovely,” Dorian spoke to fill the silence, “truly.”

Adaar stood, walking over to the bottle of wine and taking a long pull, forgoing a glass.

“Well, good night, Amatus.”

“Good night, Dorian.”

***

“Sparkler,” Varric shouted at Dorian as he saw him walk across the courtyard the next morning, “Tiny and I have an issue with you.”

“What?” Dorian asked as he approached them where they sat just outside the training ring.

“What did you do to the Inquisitor to get us kicked off the team?”

“What do you mean?”

“He left this morning,” Varric pointed out like it was information everyone knew, “ _without us_. He never goes without us. We’re his a-team.”

“He didn’t tell me he was leaving,” Dorian frowned.

“So what, did you break his heart over dinner?”

“No, of course not. We had a lovely night together.”

“Did you stay?”

“What?” Dorian turned to Bull.

“You stink of Adaar. After you two fucked, did you stay?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

Varric and Bull groaned in unison, Varric punching Dorian in the arm, hard, “you idiot.”

“What?”

“He told you he doesn’t do casual, Dorian. He told _all of us_. You fucked him and _left?”_

“He didn’t try to stop me!” Dorian protested.

“Of course he didn’t,” Bull stood, “he’s spent his entire life growing up around humans who look at him like a monster, do you think that he would dare keep any human where they didn’t want to be? Come on, Varric, we need to check his rooms.”

“For what?” Dorian followed Bull and Varric across the courtyard.

“To see what kind of damage you caused, so we can figure out a plan for when he gets back. I swear you’re the most emotionally constipated rich kid I’ve ever met,” Bull walked over to the door of the Inquisitor’s quarters, trying the handle and finding it locked, “Varric?”

“No problem, cover me,” Varric kneeled in front of the door, Bull standing to block him from view.

“We don’t need to be going through the Inquisitor’s things. I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

“He left with his winter gear, so no, I imagine we have at least a week,” Bull turned when he heard the click of the bolt slipping from the lock, “nice.”

“I live to serve,” Varric turned the handle, slipping inside and closing the door behind them.

“You’re not going to find anything, Bull, just the evidence of a romantic evening,” Dorian followed Bull up the stairs, “I left in the middle of the night, I’m sure he went to sleep.”

“I bet you he didn’t,” Bull pushed the second door open, groaning as he took in the room.

“What?” Dorian pushed past him, “oh…”

The room looked as if it had been ransacked. Adaar’s desk tipped over, broken glass from the two glasses which Dorian had set on top of it shattered across the floor. Dorian turned and found the remains of the bottle against one wall, the deep red stain from the rest of the wine running down the walls like the bloodstain from a battle wound.

The bed was stripped of its blankets, the charred remains of which could be seen in the fireplace. Adaar’s headboard, the one that Dorian had commented on, nowhere to be seen.

“Maker’s breath,” Varric did a slow turn as he looked over the damage, “something tells me that it doesn’t normally look like this.”

“No,” Dorian’s voice was small, “it doesn’t.”

“Believe me now?” Bull crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at Dorian, “why did you leave?”

“I wanted to avoid the gossip,” Dorian shrugged, “it seemed safer for both of us.”

“You need to put this room back together,” Bull pointed at Dorian, “and then we’ll figure out a plan.”

Dorian nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed as Varric and Bull left him to take in the disaster.

“Well,” Dorian sighed, righting the desk with a wave of his hand, “shit.”


	4. Chapter 4

One week turned into two and Dorian’s mood soured by the day.

“How dare he leave us for this long,” Dorian ranted in the tavern, “not even a word to know if he’s alright.”

“He’s mad at you, why would he say anything?” Bull rolled his eye, “he left for a _reason_.”

“Because I wouldn’t have a sleepover,” it was more than that, Dorian knew, but four glasses of wine in the details didn’t seem to matter so much, “it’s childish.”

“You leaving because you’re scared of gossip is childish, Sparkler. The big guy put himself out there, taking on a relationship right now. He clearly didn’t care what the nobles thought.”

Dorian scowled into his cup, draining it, “if it was so important to him, he should have _said something_.”

“You don’t expect us to believe that he didn’t ask you to stay, right? We’re not that stupid.” Bull signalled for another round, “he said something. I’d bet my horns on it.”

“He said he wanted me to stay, not that he would destroy the room and stop taking us with him if I didn’t.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Please, your affections for Krem are the worst kept secrets in Skyhold, I don’t see you two cuddling right now,” Dorian snapped but kept his voice low enough that Krem wouldn’t be able to hear them.

“Krem and I _live together_ when I’m here at Skyhold, Dorian. Just because we don’t fuck on the bar while you guys are here doesn’t mean that we hide anything.”

“Oh,” Dorian sighed, “I didn’t know.”

“Believe it or not, Sparkler, most people don’t care about the relationships going on. Those who do aren’t here for very long,” Varric shrugged, “have you thought about what you’re going to say when he comes back?”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“You have one week to prepare,” Leliana’s voice came from behind them, “he’s just sent word of his return.”

***

“Dorian,” Cullen prompted, “it’s your turn.”

“Huh?” Dorian looked over the board, “I’m sorry, I was distracted.”

Dorian moved a piece and sat back into his chair.

Cullen frowned, moving a piece, “checkmate. Honestly, Dorian, what’s going on with you today? You’re bad at chess, but not this bad.”

Dorian sighed, “I fear that I’ve ruined any relationship I may have been forming with the Inquisitor due to a foolish mistake on my part.”

“What happened?”

“He’s been nothing but kind to me, treated me better than I’ve deserved,” Dorian rubbed his hand over his face, “we had an intimate night, and I left.”

“He didn’t take that well, I’m taking it?”

“He destroyed his quarters.”

“Have you spoken to him since?”

“No, he left the morning after, and now he’s due to return tomorrow and I haven’t the slightest idea what to say to him when he returns.”

Cullen looked around the garden, and found that they were alone, “alright, pretend I’m him, what would you say?”

“I’m not roleplaying with you, Commander.”

“Dorian,” Cullen started to reset the board, “you need to prepare. He’s been away for three weeks, and while Adaar might be a man of few words I think it’s very unlikely that he hasn’t thought of something to say to you.”

“Maybe I’m better to let him end it. It’s what I deserve.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Of course it’s not,” Dorian snapped, “I adore the man.”

“Have you told him as much?”

“I told him I wanted him, that night.”

“Wanting someone is different than loving them,” Cullen pointed out.

“I don’t recall mentioning love.”

“Do you love him?”

Dorian frowned, picking up a chess piece and turning it over in his hands, “how would I know if I feel something I’ve never had?”

“If I were to tell you he wasn’t coming back, that he had fallen in battle, how would you feel?”

Dorian felt his heart skip in his chest, and his stomach sink, “terrible.”

“Why?”

“Just…so much potential lost. We’d have no time to read together, for me to teach him Tevene, for me to learn Qunlat. No winter house in Tevinter while we summered here,” Dorian shook his head, “it would be a great loss.”

“I assume that you’ve had lovers before?”

“Obviously,” Dorian rolled his eyes.

“Did you ever envision a home in Tevinter with them?”

“No,” Dorian shook his head, “they were different.”

“How?”

“I didn’t lo-“ Dorian caught himself, looking to Cullen, shocked, “I didn’t love them. Not like I care for Kaaras.”

“There you are,” Cullen smiled, “that’s a good start.”

“What, he walks in the door and I just tell him that I love him?”

“It’s better than “I’m sorry I ran away after sex”,” Cullen moved a piece on the chessboard, “your turn.”

***

Dorian had set up camp in Adaar’s quarters, truly, he had been sleeping there for the past two weeks, but it seemed most likely that Adaar would be unable to avoid him here.

Dorian looked over the room, now entirely restored by his hard work over the past few days. A new rug on the floor, a new headboard carved by Blackwall with a slot for Adaar’s horns, desk back in its place and all of the documents organized.

Grabbing a book, Dorian moved to the couch and opened to his bookmark, taking a steadying breath and settling in. There was nothing more to do but wait.

***

“Dorian.”

Dorian was dreaming, Adaar gently shaking his shoulder where he was napping with his head in Adaar’s lap in an open field of flowers. It was warm, and the smell of honeysuckle in the air told him that they were in the garden of his summer estate in Tevinter.

“Dorian.”

Dorian frowned, the dream slipping into the fade as he heard his name again.

“ _Dorian_.”

Dorian’s eyes opened, meeting the emerald eyes of Adaar, “Kaaras?”

Adaar stood, “you fell asleep.”

“I’m sorry,” Dorian sat up, finding that the fire had burned low and the sun had set, “time must have slipped away from me.”

Adaar didn’t answer him, instead grabbing another log and tossing it on the fire before walking across the room to hang up his jacket.

“How was your journey?”

“Fine.”

Dorian cringed at the cold tone of Adaar’s voice, “I owe you an apology.”

“You owe me nothing.”

“Kaaras-“

“Leave,” Adaar turned to him, avoiding his gaze.

“I’m not leaving, you just came back, I’ve been three weeks without you.”

“You were content enough to leave three weeks ago, I’m sure you can find the door again.”

“Please, give me a chance to explain,” Dorian walked toward Adaar.

“No.”

“Amatus-“

“Don’t call me that,” Adaar reached up, pulling the small bands of leather from his hair and starting to undo the braids.

“Adaar,” Dorian felt both a sense of desperation and his temper starting to slip from him, “I made a mistake. I thought you of all people would be someone who would forgive me for a mistake.”

“I thought you of all people would not _leave_ in the middle of the night after I had explained how I felt about casual sex. I guess we were both wrong.”

“I was trying to protect your reputation!”

“What reputation?” Adaar scowled, “the Qunari with the cursed mark? Who _cares_ about my reputation, Dorian? No one. You care about _your_ reputation. Being faced with the nobles knowing that you’re bedding a Qunari.”

Dorian gaped at him, “Is that what you think?”

“Am I wrong?” Adaar crossed his arms over his chest, “we have friends here, Dorian. Good friends. Do you think they honestly care if we’re together?”

“Of course not.”

“So tell me then, who were you so worried about?”

Dorian sighed, trying and failing to come up with a name.

“As I said,” Adaar turned his back to Dorian, “you were scared for your reputation.”

“I was wrong,” Dorian whispered, only the flick of Adaar’s pointed ear letting Dorian know he had heard, “I should have stayed.”

“It’s done now,” Adaar unbuttoned the thick leather shirt he wore under his chainmail and hung it up with his jacket, “you’ve bedded me, as you wanted. It won’t happen again, so if that’s what you’re here for you can leave.”

“I’ve been waiting to speak with you for three weeks, I want to make things right,” Dorian closed the distance between them, standing close enough behind Adaar to feel the heat coming from him, “I’ve missed you terribly.”

“Missed me, or my bed?”

“Well I haven’t missed your bed, I’ve been sleeping in it for days,” Dorian tried for a joke before cautiously reaching a hand up to Adaar’s shoulder, “in between fixing the mess whoever ransacked your quarters left behind.”

“I have a bad temper.”

“Not with me.”

Adaar turned, looking down at Dorian with a small frown, “what do you want from me, Dorian?”

“Your forgiveness, even though I don’t deserve it. I daresay I’ve never deserved you in the first place.”

“Dorian, I’m exhausted,” Adaar looked defeated, “I can’t do this tonight.”

“Please,” Dorian whispered, “please speak with me. I’ve barely been able to sleep thinking that I’ve hurt you.”

“I need to rest.”

“We can talk in bed?”

“No.”

“I’ll keep my clothes on,” Dorian offered, “please.”

Adaar sighed, “I’ll give you until that log burns down.”

“I can work with that,” Dorian walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for Adaar to join him.

Adaar kicked off his boots and pulled off the thick leather pants he wore, pushing back the covers getting to the bed, covering his legs with the blanket before turning to Dorian, “I’ll hear you out.”

Posed with the option to speak, Dorian found himself at a loss for words.

“Dorian?”

“You’re right,” Dorian started, “I know my reputation isn’t worth much here, but I’ve spent my life treasuring what reputation I had at home. It wasn’t just keeping up appearances in Tevinter, it’s survival.”

“So the issue is that I’m Qunari.”

“Maker no,” Dorian shook his head, “not at all.”

“Explain then.”

“My father, since he found out about my preference, has made it his mission to take any potential romantic interests from me,” Dorian picked at he fur across Adaar’s bed, “It’s one thing if he sends assassins for me, but if he were to find out about you, and make forbid I were to put you in danger-“

“You’re making up stories, Dorian,” Adaar interrupted, “a corrupted Magister couldn’t kill me. The last round of assassins couldn’t kill me. If you wanted to speak with me, at least be honest with me.”

Dorian met Adaar’s gaze, taking a moment to take in the dark silver of his skin, the bright green of his eyes, the scar through his eyebrow.

The fear of never seeing these things again if he didn’t speak honestly in this moment.

“Maker save me,” Dorian took a steadying breath, “I love you.”

“What?”

“I love you,” Dorian repeated, “and I have no idea what to do with it. I’ve never been in love with anyone who might have the potential to love me back. Sex? Sex I can do. It’s easy and fleeting. You leave after and life continues with no hurt feelings. Love, waking up with someone in the morning, living together, building a life together, I don’t know how to do that. I’m frightened of failing you, and I’m terrified that you’d never feel the same way.”

“I don’t understand,” Adaar shook his head, “if you love me, why would you leave?”

“Leaving by my own choice,” Dorian looked down at his hands in his lap, “is much easier than facing you asking me to leave.”

“What did I do to give you the impression I would want you to leave? I asked you to stay.”

“There’s staying for the night, and staying for good. It’s not the same.”

“Kadan,” Adaar reached over, taking one of Dorian’s hands in his, “get into bed.”

“What?”

“Get into bed,” Adaar repeated.

“I’m sorry, I’m lost,” Dorian frowned, “I just confessed my love to you, and you want me to get into bed?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“I will,” Adaar slipped further into the bed, pulling back the covers on Dorian’s side, “get into bed.”

Dorian stood, slowly pulling off his leathers until he was down to his smalls, getting into the bed next to Adaar.

“Can you extinguish the fire?”

Dorian gave a wave of his hand, the flames flickering out, his nerves increasing by the second.

“Turn to face the fire.”

Dorian rolled onto his side, gasping as he felt Adaar tuck up behind him, wrapping an arm over his hip and taking one of Dorian’s hands in his.

“Amatus?”

“Imagine, for a minute, that it’s winter,” Adaar whispered, “and we’ve been outside all day, and you have a chill, one that a warm bath can’t chase away.”

“Alright.”

“We return to our quarters, dine together, discuss whatever you’re reading, before turning in to bed.”

Dorian nodded, squeezing Adaar’s hand.

“We make love, maybe I make love to you, maybe you make love to me, it doesn’t matter. Either way, we’re satisfied. Once we’re done, you put out the fire and I hold you, just like this. Together, we’re warm.”

Dorian swallowed past the lump in his throat, nodding again.

“And we can do that each day, we fall into a routine together. Is that something you would want?”

“Yes,” Dorian whispered, “please.”

“Then you have to love me, _bravely._ There will always be stares, Dorian. They will always talk. I’m a Qunari with a magic hand, you’re the son of a Tevinter Magister. We can get through these things, but not if you’re going to hide me, or run. Can you do that?”

Dorian turned in Adaar’s arms, trying to look at him through the darkness, “don’t you have to love me too?”

“I do love you, Kadan.”

“Truly?”

“Truly.”

“I don’t know how brave I am, Amatus, but I promise I’ll try.”

“No more running?”

“No more running,” Dorian pulled Adaar down for a kiss, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”


	5. Chapter 5

Dorian woke up cold and alone in the Inquisitor’s bed, sitting up with a jolt wondering if the night before had been a dream.

“Kaaras?”

“Over here,” Adaar’s voice came from by the window there the Inquisitor was reclining in a large wooden tub. His head resting on the lip of the tub with his eyes closed as the steam curled around him.

“Well, that’s a nice sight to wake up too,” Dorian stretched, “for a moment I thought you had left.”

“No, I was just in very serious need of a bath,” Adaar kept his eyes closed, “I smelt so bad when I woke up it was a wonder that you wanted to share a bed with me in the first place.”

“I missed you so much while you were away, I was willing to overlook the smell.”

Adaar chuckled, “Is that so?”

“It is indeed,” Dorian stood from the bed, walking over to Adaar, “how did you heat the water?”

“Enchantment Dagna made,” Adaar reached into the water, pulling out what looked like a small rock, “it’s very effective.”

“It looks it,” Dorian looked over the small table next to the bathtub and retrieved a small cloth, dipping it into the water, “turn towards me, you have…mud?...No, that’s blood. You have blood on your face.”

“I can bathe myself, Dorian.”

“I’m sure you can, but let me spoil you a bit.”

Adaar turned, letting Dorian guide him by the chin as he brought the cloth to the base of Adaar’s horn and started to wipe away the mark.

“I missed you,” Adaar’s voice was low and warm.

“Of course you did, I’m easy to miss,” Dorian carefully twisted Adaar’s horn covers off, setting them aside as he continued to wash them, “I’m beautiful, funny, charismatic.”

“You are all of those things,” Adaar agreed.

“And…I’m also sorry,” Dorian frowned, but kept his attention on washing, “I know it said it last night, but now that emotions are settled, I just wanted to say it one more time.”

“I’m sorry too,” Adaar’s bright green eyes opened, meeting Dorian’s, “I shouldn’t have left. Thank you for putting my quarters right.”

“You’re welcome, though I’m afraid I couldn’t find your headboard.”

“I threw it off the balcony,” Adaar pointed to one of the doors.

“Oh,” Dorian shrugged, “this one will work better anyway. Now dunk your head, I need to wash your hair.”

Adaar slipped from Dorian’s grasp, sliding under the water for a minute before launching himself back up, splashing water all over Dorian in the process.

“Savage,” Dorian swatted at Adaar.

“No use now, Kadan. You might as well join me. You’re already wet.”

“You want me to bathe with you?”

Adaar moved, shifting to make room for Dorian, “yes.”

“Alright,” Dorian slipped off his smalls, awkwardly stepping into the tub.

“Have you never bathed with someone else before?”

“No,” Dorian started to sit in the water, finding that it was far deeper than he thought, lapping at the bottom of his chin.

“Come here,” Adaar reached for Dorian, pulling him into his lap, “you’re too short.”

Dorian let Adaar adjust him until he was comfortably resting against Adaar’s chest, “now what?”

“Now you rest with me for a while.”

It took Dorian a minute to relax, the unfamiliarity of the situation making him uneasy, but soon the warmth of the water and Adaar’s strong arms holding him soothed Dorian into a comfortable daze.

“I think I could get used to this,” Dorian teased the small patch of white hair on Adaar’s chest.

“I hope so,” Adaar passed Dorian a bar of soap, “you wanted to wash my hair?”

“I’ve never seen it out of braids,” Dorian turned so he was straddling Adaar, a firm grip on his hip keeping him steady as he started to lather the white hair.

“I leave them in for weeks at a time. It’s easier. Those braids are a pain to do with big hands.”

“I’d imagine so.”

“Sera does them for me, sometimes.”

“Does she? I’m surprised she has the patience to do it.”

“She can do them surprisingly quickly.”

“Why don’t you leave it down while you’re here, give it a break?”

“Why, do you like it?”

“I do,” Dorian confirmed, running his fingers to work the knots from Adaar’s hair, “I also like this beard you’ve got started.”

“I’m afraid that’s going to go next, I have too many scars on my face for it to grow in evenly.”

“Alright, tilt your head back, I’ll rinse your hair,” Dorian reached for a small cup and filled it with water, bringing it to carefully wash away the soap.

Adaar closed his eyes as Dorian poured the water between his horns, his hair coming up a brilliant bright white.

“There we are, all clean.”

“Thank you,” Adaar pulled Dorian down got a gentle kiss, “I need to get out of the water before my horns get soft.”

“They get soft?”

“In water for too long, yes,” Adaar shifted Dorian, standing and reaching for a towel.

“Maker, look at you,” Dorian watched the water run over Adaar’s skin, “you’re beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Adaar stepped from the water, wrapping the towel around his waist and offered a hand to Dorian, “I had breakfast brought up, are you hungry?”

“I am,” Dorian let Adaar help him from the tub, “and cold, do you mind if I light a fire?”

“Not at all.”

Dorian took the other towel from the stand, wondering for a moment why there was two, before wrapping it around his waist and lighting the fire with a flick of his wrist.

“Who brought up the food?”

“Varric,” Adaar brought over a tray of food, setting it on the small table by the fire, “I would have had my aid bring it, but I wasn’t sure if you’d be comfortable with them seeing you in bed.”

“I don’t mind.”

He did mind. Dorian knew that Adaar was well aware of that fact.

“Dorian,” Adaar rolled his eyes, “I don’t expect you to be comfortable with everyone knowing we’re together. I don’t want you running out on me. There’s a difference.”

“I know,” Dorian sat on the couch, “I understand.”

“The cook made that berry crumble you like.”

“Oh?” Dorian smiled, “good news.”

***

“So what are your plans for the day?” Dorian tried for casual.

“Spending the day in bed,” Adaar stood, tossing his towel to the side and walking nude back to the bed, “I hope you’ll join me.”

Dorian followed Adaar, throwing his towel with Adaar’s and slipping into bed next to him, “And what pray tell are we going to do in bed?”

“Come here,” Adaar reached for Dorian, turning on his side to face him.

“Alright,” Dorian fought the urge to arch into Adaar’s touch as he ran his hand over his back, “now what?”

“Tell me about what you’re reading.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

***

“So you’re saying that we could power lights from relatively small lightning spells encased in jars?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Let me know what supplies you need and we can arrange for you to test it.”

“Truly?”

“Certainly. It sounds like it would be a wonderful tool. You’re very clever to have thought of it.”

“Thank you,” Dorian blushed.

“You’re welcome.”

“So what now?”

“Did you have somewhere you needed to be?”

“No…”

“But?”

“But I’m sure you have somewhere much more important to be than in bed with me discussing my reading.”

“In your arms is the only important place to me, Kadan.”

“As sweet as that is, Amatus, your counsel probably doesn’t agree.”

“I told them I wasn’t leaving you today,” Adaar rolled onto his back, pulling Dorian to rest against his chest.

Dorian smiled into the skin of Adaar’s chest, touched that he had taken the day for him, “I’ll admit, Amatus, that I don’t really know how this goes.”

“How what goes?”

“Love.”

“Ah,” Adaar carded his fingers through Dorian’s hair, “well, it different for everyone. Spending time together is universal though.”

“Like this?”

“Like this,” Adaar confirmed, “would you rather be doing something else?”

“I have this beautiful hulk of a man naked in bed with me. I can think of a few things I’d like to be doing.”

“Such as?”

Dorian shifted, straddling Adaar with a grin, “a more physical demonstration might be required.”

“I’m all yours.”

“Is that so? I can keep you?”

“You certainly can.”

Adaar pulled Dorian down, and for a moment he thought Adaar was going to kiss him. That is until Adaar encouraged Dorian to rest his head against Adaar’s shoulder as he gently ran his fingertips over Dorian’s back.

“That feels lovely,” Dorian fought the urge to purr, “not what I had in mind.”

“I know what you have in mind, Kadan,” Adaar smiled, “we can get to that, but for now I just want to enjoy touching you.”

Dorian blushed but didn’t comment, instead closing his eyes and focusing on the feeling of Adaar all around him.

“I fear if this is the treatment you give me that I’ll never be able to leave you.”

“That’s my hope.”

“A lifetime with me? Sounds miserable.”

“Sounds perfect,” Adaar pressed a kiss to the top of Dorian’s head, before kissing Dorian once, softly, then again, for slightly longer, pulling away for a moment to smile down at him.

“Don’t stop,” Dorian reached for Adaar’s horn, pulling him back, “I’ve wanted you touching me since you left.”

“Short of having you inside me again, we can’t get much closer.”

Dorian ran his fingers over Adaar’s horns, brushing against the point of one and the blunt tip of the other, “it must be quite something, to love someone so much to give a literal piece of yourself for them.”

“I’d do the same for you.”

“Would you?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Did it hurt?”

“It certainly did.”

“I’m sorry it didn’t work,” Dorian frowned, “though I don’t suppose I’d have you now, if it had.”

“Likely not,” Adaar closed his eyes as Dorian brushed his thumb over the scar in his eyebrow, “I’m fairly loyal.”

Dorian traced the line of Adaar’s jar before tipping his face toward him, kissing him deeply and slowly until he felt Adaar’s cock start to twitch with interest against his hip.

“Something in mind, Amatus?”

“I have a beautiful man kissing me, the only thing I have in mind is how much I would like to keep kissing him.”

Dorian smiled, sliding down the bed, kissing each of Adaar’s scars along the way until he was level with his hips, “let me take care of you.”

“You’ll hear no complaints from me.”

“I should hope not,” Dorian took a moment to admire the thick muscle of Adaar’s thighs as he settled between them, kissing the sensitive skin.

Adaar reached for a pillow, propping up his head further on one of his arms behind his head.

“You want to watch me, Amatus?”

“Yes.”

Dorian felt his breath catch at the heated look on Adaar’s face, making a show of taking his cock in hand and stroking him slowly, keeping eye contact.

“I’m going to make you feel so good.”

Adaar smiled, “promises.”

“Let me make good on my promises then.”

Adaar groaned as Dorian licked the head of his cock before taking as much as he could without choking,

Dorian glanced up, winking and pulling a laugh from Adaar.

Adaar hissed out a breath as Dorian started to move, rocking his hips gently with the motion. Dorian lost himself in the taste of Adaar, warm and almost metallic.

When Dorian noticed the muscles across Adaar’s stomach he pulled back, “try not to spend, Amatus, I’d like you inside me today.”

Adaar’s cock gave a heavy twitch at the statement and he reached for Dorian, pulling him back up the bed.

“You’re sure?”

“What, that I want you inside of me? Of course, I’m sure.”

“You weren’t sure, the first night.”

“You’ll be gentle.”

“I will,” Adaar promised, urging Dorian to stretch out on his stomach as he reached for the oil, “you’ll have to let me know if you need to slow down.”

“I will.”

Adaar poured what seemed to be half of the bottle of oil into the palm of his hand.

“You’re large, Amatus, but that might be overdoing it.”

“Shh,” Adaar warmed the oil between his hands before running them over Dorian’s back, pressing his thumbs into the knots along Dorian’s spine.

“Oh, I rather like this idea,” Dorian closed his eyes.

“I thought you might,” Adaar slowly worked the tension from Dorian’s back, gradually working down Dorian’s back before bringing his hands to Dorian’s legs, kneading his thighs.

Dorian spread his legs tilting his hips up and into Adaar’s hands as the skirted across the swell of his ass, “Amatus, stop teasing me.”

“I’m not teasing you,” Adaar’s thumbs moved further in toward the cleft of Dorian’s ass, gently brushing against where Dorian wanted the attention most, “I’m relaxing you.”

“That’s what preparation is for.”

“Kadan, my fingers are as thick as some of your lovers' cocks,” to illustrate his point Adaar gently pressed the tip of his index finger inside of Dorian, causing the smaller man to jump in surprise, “I need you relaxed.

Dorian nodded against the pillow, closing his eyes and letting Adaar take his time to prepare him, “have you ever bedded a human before?”

“Yes,” Adaar smirked, “just the other night.”

“Other than me.”

“Yes,” Adaar studied Dorian’s face as one finger turned to two, “why?”

“Have you ever run into issues, given your build?”

“Not if I take my time. I’m a gentle Qunari.”

Dorian smiled, “that you are.”

When Dorian felt the third finger brush against him, he tensed, “Kaaras…”

“I won’t hurt you, just relax.”

Dorian took a deep breath, forcing the tension from his body as Adaar turned his fingers, pressing them hard against Dorian’s prostate.

Dorian let out a shout, gripping the sheets in a white-knuckled grip as blinding pleasure arched up his back.

“See? No problem.”

“What?” Dorian gasped.

“Three fingers,” Adaar flexed them again, pulling a creative selection of curses in Tevene from Dorian.

“Kaaras, please, no more. I want you inside of me.”

Adaar withdrew his fingers, tapping Dorian on his side, “roll on your back for me.”

Dorian flipped, watching as Adaar took more oil to slick himself, spreading his legs to make room for Adaar to settle between them.

“Careful,” Dorian grasped Adaar’s shoulder as he positioned himself over Dorian.

“I will be,” Adaar leaned down, kissing Dorian gently until Dorian’s grip on his shoulder relaxed.

Once Dorian’s hand found its way into Adaar’s hair, the other holding him by the horn and keeping him in place, Adaar rocked forward, catching the moan falling from Dorian’s lips with a kiss.

Dorian gasped as Adaar moved, slowly encouraging Dorian’s body to take him. Just as Dorian felt like he could take no more he felt Adaar’s hips press into the back of his legs.

“Give me a moment,” Dorian whispered against Adaar’s lips.

“As long as you need,” Adaar pushed back, settling on his knees to look at where they were joined, “you did well.”

“I feel so full,” Dorian ran his hand over his stomach, half expecting to feel the hard line of Adaar’s cock through the muscle.

“You are full,” Adaar took Dorian’s cock in hand, stroking him slowly as Dorian started to adjust, “does it feel alright?”

“Amazing,” Dorian tried to roll is hips but found he had no leverage in his current position, “now please take me.”

Adaar smiled, leaning over Dorian again, “you’re sure?”

“Yes, please.”

Adaar pulled his hips back, almost pulling out from Dorian before pushing forward with a forceful, but not rough, thrust forward.

“Maker,” Dorian gasped.

“Alright?”

“Perfect,” Dorian reached for Adaar, looking for something to anchor himself and settling on the back of Adaar’s neck, “again.”

Adaar didn’t hesitate, picking up a firm but gentle pace as he rocked into Dorian, leaving the smaller man hopeless to do anything but cling to him as he moved.

“ _Yes_ ,” Dorian wanted to close his eyes, revel in the sensation, but couldn’t bring himself to look away from Adaar, “Amatus, you’re so good.”

Adaar groaned, kissing along Dorian’s neck, “Kadan, you’re so tight around me.”

Dorian whimpered, reaching between them to stroke himself in time with Adaar’s thrusts, much to the pleasure of Adaar who moaned at the sight.

Adaar slid a hand under Dorian’s back, encouraging him to arch his back, gently changing his position until Dorian let out a shout, “there?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Dorian felt tears spring to his eyes at the intensity of the stimulation, “don’t stop.”

“Come on, Kadan,” Adaar’s thrusts sped up, “with me.”

Dorian felt himself clench around Adaar, his orgasm ever nearer, “I’m close.”

“Let me see you,” Adaar growled, “and take me with you.”

Dorian screamed Adaar’s name as he came, not a care for who might have heard him from the main hall as he felt the warm rush of Adaar spilling inside of him, chanting Dorian’s name like a prayer into the side of his neck.

Adaar sat back on his knees, panting, not pulling from Dorian as he slowly came down from the orgasmic high.

“Are you alright?” Adaar asked after a minute had passed.

“After a demonstration like that? Of course,” Dorian laughed, “why do you ask?”

Adaar brushed his thumb across Dorian’s cheek, pulling away wet. Dorian reached up to his other cheek and found tears there.

“Oh. You didn’t hurt me.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Adaar slid from Dorian, laying on the bed next to him and brushing away the rest of his tears, “but why are you crying?”

“I have no idea,” Dorian couldn’t help but feel ridiculous, “it's just, that was more than just sex…”

“Of course it was,” Adaar pulled Dorian to lay across his chest, “it always is when you love each other.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Kadan. I just wanted to make sure that you were alright.”

“I’m perfect, though slightly sticky.”

“Let me catch my breath, and I’ll draw you a bath.”

Dorian smiled against the skin of Adaar’s chest, closing his eyes and for the first time in his life, allowing himself to enjoy the afterglow.

***

It wasn’t until much later in the afternoon that Adaar and Dorian had left the Inquisitor's quarters, joining Varric and Bull to watch the Templar’s train.

“Weak,” Bull pointed out one Templar’s swing.

“He’s got a shoulder injury,” Adaar commented back, “he’s meant to be resting.”

Dorian fought the chill that ran through him as a cool breeze swept through Skyhold, wishing he had brought his winter cloak with him.

“Cold?” Adaar asked, reaching for his cloak closure.

“Don’t,” Dorian stopped him, looking around at the nobles milling around the arena before taking a steadying breath and sitting in Adaar’s lap, pulling the cloak around the both of them.

Adaar startled for a moment before taking Dorian’s hand, holding it tightly under the cloak, “I can give you my cloak, Dorian.”

“Why would I take your cloak when I could have the pleasure of taking the heat from the source?” Dorian tried for casual.

“Atta boy, Dorian,” Bull encouraged, “fuck the noble stiffs. They would be much happier if they had a decent lay.”

“You’re not wrong, Tiny,” Varric laughed.

“Yes, well, as it is, he’s mine. So they’ll have to ride the Bull if they want a decent lay of their own.”

“Taken,” Krem called from the other side of Bull.

“Their loss,” Dorian shrugged, “but this one is mine.”

“I love you, Kadan.”

Dorian smiled, kissing Adaar.

Be damned the stares.


End file.
